Distracted Walking
by DinoDina
Summary: Oliver's on his way home from the gym when he saves a guy from being run over. Percy/Oliver oneshot written for Last Ship Sailing Competition II on HPFC.


**Written for Last Ship Sailing Competition II on HPFC  
Prompts: 1. (AU) book club, 3. (Word) half, 8. (Dialogue) "I didn't get a chance to thank you.", 9. (Emotion) embarrassed  
Words: 1438**

 **Huge thanks to Carmen for helping a ton with the plot!**

Oliver made sure his gym bag was closed and over his shoulder as he left the building. After a long and productive workout at his favorite gym, he was on his way home. He heaved the bag higher on his shoulder and started down the busy street.

It was Saturday, the awkward time before lunch and five o'clock, so the streets were crowded with tourists and those hurrying to do their errands. Oliver had done his shopping three days previously on the way home from rugby practice, so he didn't have to worry about that.

All he had to worry about was crossing the street and walking three more blocks to his flat.

Oliver looked right and left at the traffic, ready to cross the road, already thinking of the luxurious shower he was going to take when he got back home—nothing to worry about—and looked at the road again just in case—

"Watch it, mate!" Oliver barely had time to yell as he dragged a redhaired man back onto the sidewalk.

"Oh, dear," the man said. He looked at the car that just nearly ran him over.

"'Oh, dear' indeed," Oliver said, his eyes wide. "Don't you look when you cross the road?" His own eyes fell on the open book in the man's hands. "Or do you just read as you walk into oncoming traffic?"

"I look very carefully before crossing the road, thank you very much!" the redhead said hotly. "The light was green—"

"And you were about two meters from the crossing!"

"Right." The redhead cleared his throat, but kept eye-contact with Oliver; the quick reddening of his ears was the only thing that let Oliver know he was embarrassed. "Well… I admit that I might have been distracted. Just this once."

"Yeah, _a bit_. What are you reading, anyway?" Oliver grabbed the book—the redhead clearly had few athletic abilities, because he barely reacted to Oliver's sudden movement other than looking resigned—and looked at the cover. " _Les Misérables_ … what the…? Why?"

The redhead huffed. "You know, if people actually had any idea what this book was about, you wouldn't be looking at me like that. Not only does it hold a tremendous amount of philosophical musings and factual information, but once you get past the difficult parts, it's absolutely _hilarious_!"

Alright, so Oliver was talking to someone who found classical French literature 'hilarious'. He could work with that. "Why are you reading it? More importantly, why are you reading it while you're crossing the road?"

"I'm reading it for my book club," the redhead said with the utmost importance. "My friend and I run it, and it was her turn to choose the book, so I hadn't had the chance to read it yet. I got caught up a little in work, but I'm only two chapters behind, but I'm already late."

"Late?"

"We meet today. Five minutes ago. I'm late, and I'm not done with the chapter."

Oliver sighed. "How far away is it?"

"What?"

Oliver bent and picked up his gym bag, which had fallen off his shoulder when he'd pulled the redhead off the road. "How far away does your book club meet? I'm taking you there, I'm not letting you get run over right after I saved you."

"Uh…" The redhead looked around. "Given today's traffic, I'd say ten minutes? Maybe seven. Across the road and three streets up."

"Alright." Oliver put his hand on the redhead's elbow and guided them to stand with the other pedestrians waiting for the green light. "Hey, since I'm your guide dog for the next seven to ten minutes while you do some last-minute reading, what's your name?"

The redhead, who hadn't yet started reading, looked at him. "Percy."

"Oliver." As he smiled, he saw that Percy was a bit taller than him. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

The light turned red, and Oliver and Percy were swept up in the crowd as they crossed the road. Oliver made sure to keep a tight hold on both his bag and Percy, who was half-focused on his book, clearly nervous about letting Oliver guide him.

"Hey, relax," Oliver said encouragingly. "You won't get any reading done if you're worried about me letting you fall into traffic."

Percy momentarily looked up from the book and chuckled weakly. "Sorry, I guess I'm a bit on edge. Seven minutes left, and I haven't even started this chapter."

Oliver tried not to gape. He really did. He started saying something along the lines of "You're on edge because you're behind in reading? You nearly died a few minutes ago!" but Percy wasn't listening.

The gym bag was slipping off his shoulder again; he'd need to buy a new one soon, this one was too old. Oliver hitched the bag up again and led Percy down the street.

He was grudgingly impressed by the man, however stuffy Percy had come off as when they'd met—anyone who'd just escaped death would be awkward and jumpy. And if Percy was _naturally_ awkward, well… Oliver would deal with it.

Percy handled death with an embarrassed smile, didn't flinch when people grabbed books out of his hands, trusted strangers to take him to his book club, thought French classics were hilarious, and was on edge because he was late, not because of the aforementioned near-death experience. A person like that was a person Oliver wanted to know. The fact that his blush was adorable and his smile was sweet only made him more interesting.

As they walked, Oliver quickly realized that he didn't know where they were going. He knew how far to walk, but he had no idea if the book club was meeting in a café, a flat, or a bookstore. Asking Percy would mean interrupting his reading, and Oliver was loath to do that.

They walked the rest of the way like that, Oliver keeping an eye out for anything that could house Percy's book club.

Three streets later, and the only option was _Penelope's Books_.

"Hey, Percy," Oliver said.

Percy looked up suddenly. "Yes?"

"We're here." Oliver pointed at the building and made a face. "I think."

"Yes, we're—oh, I didn't tell you the building, did I?" Percy blushed again, involuntarily. He dog-eared the page and closed his book. "I'm sorry. But thank you! For bringing me here."

Oliver grinned at him. "You're welcome."

If Oliver looked sideways into the window, he'd be able to see a group of people seated around a table, each holding a thick book. But after a first glance at the window, he only looked at Percy.

Oliver cleared his throat. "I'll leave you here, then, shall I?"

"Yes, thank you." Percy grinned back at him, then turned away and walked to the door, where he put his hand on the doorknob. He turned back around sharply. "Oh! I didn't get a chance to thank you. For before. For saving my life and all."

"Don't worry about it." Oliver shook his head modestly. "Actually, let me—"

"I know it's not much of a 'thank you', but would you consider coming to the book club?" Percy looked at him with the genuine air of a man who didn't know he'd interrupted. "I don't really have anything else to offer, and it would be great to make a closer acquaintance of you."

Oliver laughed; Percy was needlessly formal, but it wasn't as annoying as it should have been. "I think I'll pass for right now. French classics aren't my style, no matter how funny they are."

"Oh."

Oliver imagined that the sigh Percy just gave was disappointed. He caught himself just in time, as he would have flirted at any other moment. Percy intrigued him, but he wasn't sure if he was attracted. Yet.

"I'll give it a chance, though." Oliver yanked a spare pen out of his bag and grabbed Percy's hand, where he wrote something. "Call me when you're done with Hugo."

Oliver watched Percy's eyes widen behind his spectacles as he looked at the number Oliver had just scribbled on his hand.

He smiled. "Or call me earlier. Someone's got to make sure you don't walk into traffic on the way here. Same time next week?"

"I've got the club—"

"Or an hour before. Get a coffee?"

"Yeah, alright." Percy looked inside the bookstore; the people at the table were all looking at him. "Oliver, I've really got to go, I'm twenty minutes late… But yeah, I'd like to. I'll—I'll call you?"

"Yeah." Oliver shot him a final smile, waved, and watched him enter _Penelope's Books_.


End file.
